


Stay

by downlookingup



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst and Porn, Blow Jobs, Car Sex, Established Relationship, F/M, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-21
Updated: 2014-10-21
Packaged: 2018-02-21 23:33:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,562
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2486318
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/downlookingup/pseuds/downlookingup
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jaime and Brienne's trip to Winterfell does not go as planned.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stay

**Author's Note:**

> For the [Tumblr AU meme](http://asharastarfall.tumblr.com/post/97858081088/because-we-really-needed-another-au-meme-thats-why), Anonymous asked for "Jaime/Brienne #5: Car breaks down in the middle of nowhere AU"

Jaime glanced around the empty, decrepit rest stop and wondered, for what seemed like the thousandth time that day, how in the seven hells he'd ended up driving from King's Landing to Winterfell in the middle of fucking winter. He stomped his feet to force some heat into them, checked the pump display to see how many dragons that trice-damned trip was going to cost him (sixty and counting), and glanced inside the store. He saw Brienne's pale blonde head through the window towering above the shelves. She would undoubtedly be looking for some organic cardboard-tasting crap to snack on while they drove. _Damn her._

They'd barely exchanged a word since somewhere around The Twins, when she'd finally confessed that they weren't _just_ going to Robb Stark's wedding. He'd suspected there was more to it, of course. Brienne liked the Starks, but certainly not enough to drive eight hours to their winter bloody wonderland for the wedding of a guy she barely knew. He never thought the real reason would be a job interview with Dean Catelyn Stark. Brienne was in the running for a place at Manderly University’s History department. It was a tenure-track position, unlike her adjunct professorship at King’s Landing University, a good job. He couldn’t believe she hadn’t told him about it before.

 _She probably wanted to make sure she got the position before she ran for the hills,_ he thought, bitterly. She would never ask him to leave his own tenured chair and there would be no commuting from King's Landing to White Harbor. Brienne meant to leave him. Worse still, she’d expected him to take the news in stride, judging by the way she'd looked at him from the passenger seat when she'd told him. _Let her have the fucking job_ , he'd decided as he drove. It wouldn't be the first time a woman had pushed him away and he refused to beg Brienne to stay.

The gas pump stopped at the same time Brienne came out of the store, hunched over in her coat to hide from the wind and carrying a plastic bag. Jaime pushed the pump lever down with his stump and hung the nozzle. He closed the SUV’s tank and moved around the car to the driver side but Brienne was already there, opening the door.

" _I'm_ driving," he said.

A sudden rush of white steam rushed out of her mouth as she sighed. She turned to him and gave him a forced smile. "You could use a break."

"I'm fine. And it's my car, _wench_." He didn't mean to coat the word with so much venom, but he couldn't help it.

Brienne's jaw tensed and she glanced down at his stump before meeting his eyes again. "The news is saying that a big storm is moving south. I think it would be safer if I drove."

 _Of course. She thinks I'm weak and useless._ No wonder she wanted to move to White Harbor. It was about as far north as she could get from the old cripple she was forced to live with, from _him_ , without freezing her tits off. He threw the car keys at her, grinning smugly when she fumbled to catch them against her flat chest, and went around to the passenger side without a word. He had half a mind to stay in the rest stop and call a town car to take him back to the capital, but the place looked mind-numbingly boring and colder than the seventh hell and he didn't fancy waiting. At least there would be central heating at Winterfell. _And alcohol. Lots and lots of alcohol._

Brienne adjusted the seat to fit in her long legs and checked all the mirrors dutifully, part of her pigheaded responsible-driver routine, before buckling her seatbelt and pulling out of the rest stop. She kept her eyes firmly trained on the road ahead and he recognized the scowl on her mouth as the one she put on when she was holding something back. It made her look uglier than she was, the way it twisted up her face. Briefly, he thought about how much he would miss it when she was gone but he pushed the notion away and looked out the window instead.

  

They had been driving for an hour when the car stalled, suddenly and without warning, just a couple of miles from Winterfell. Brienne cursed under her breath and steered the car off the road and onto the snow-covered shoulder. Like the news had promised, it had begun snowing shortly after they'd left the rest stop in the Neck and its intensity had been growing steadily since. Brienne glanced briefly at Jaime before turning the ignition off and trying it again. The alternator clicked uselessly before falling silent. The battery was probably frozen. _And no wonder, in this weather. We never should have come,_ he thought.

Jaime sighed and Brienne turned to glare at him. "Just... _don't,"_ she growled.

"I didn't say anything!"

Her brow knitted together in annoyance. "No, but you were thinking it." He only answered with a shrug and a tight smile that made her roll her eyes. As always, she had the measure of him. Five years they'd been acquainted, the first half as professional rivals, the latter half as lovers, and it still surprised him how well she knew him.

Brienne zipped up her jacket and jumped out of the car. _Stupid stubborn wench._ She was going to freeze out there. He buttoned up his own coat and followed her out. It was so cold he almost felt his lungs freeze in his chest. "Shit!" he shouted. Brienne was pushing the hood of the car open. "What the fuck are you doing?"

"I'm checking the engine," she shouted over the wind.

"You don't know a fucking thing about cars, wench! Get inside before you turn into a block of ice."

"It's probably the battery," she said. "Everything else looks fine."

Jaime shouldered her away from the hood and slammed it down. Snow was catching in his beard and their hair, and they would be soaked in no time. He opened the door to the backseat. "Get inside!" She frowned at him and he knew what she was about to ask. “ _For fuck’s sake_. It’s more comfortable in the back and we’re gonna be here for a while.”

She huffed at him and got in the backseat and he followed. The car was still warm but it was only a matter of time before it would be freezing inside too. Brienne pulled off her gloves and shook the snow out of her hair before it melted. He did the same with his beard and hair. There was a big wool blanket in the back that she’d tossed in before they left the capital, citing horror stories about people stranded in the snow. He’d laughed at her then but he had no intention of admitting she’d been right, even as he unfolded the blanket and offered her half of it. She draped it over her lap without a word and he did the same.

Jaime brought his phone out of his pocket and checked the screen. Not a single signal bar. He silently turned the screen towards Brienne and she scowled and showed him hers. No signal either.

"What are we supposed to do now?" she asked.

"Wait. Once the snow stops, we can walk into town. Or maybe someone will drive by and help."

"Great." She pulled off her snow-covered jacket, settled into her corner of the car under the blanket, and was quiet.

  

The silence was almost unbearable. Not a single car had passed by since theirs had stalled and the radio wasn't working. Brienne hadn't said a word for the past hour and she was still pressed against the opposite door, staring doggedly out the window, careful not to touch him under the blanket they were sharing. She had brought out the packet of puffed rice cakes she’d bought at the store but she still hadn’t reached into the bag. She’d been buying them almost in bulk for months, snacking on them like they were the best things under the sun. The sight of the bag on her lap made him angry again.

“I bet you’re relieved to know they sell that crap so far north,” he said. “You’d really miss them when you left King’s Landing if they didn’t.”

She tossed the bag onto the front seat. “Jaime…”

 _I can’t do this_ , he thought. "Listen, if you want to take the job, I won't stop you." She gave him a withering look but he forged ahead. As much as he loved her, he wouldn't be able to live with himself knowing he'd been the reason she hadn't taken the job. "You should do what makes you happy."

She scoffed. "What makes me _happy_? _You_ make me happy, you idiot. You think I _want_ to leave you?"

The look in her eyes gave him pause. She was angry with him. _She has no right to be_ , he thought. _She's leaving_ me _. Not the other way around._ "Why else would you take the job?"

"Because it’s the perfect job!" She rubbed her face roughly and sighed. "Teaching medieval literature at the university with the largest medieval library in the country? Even you couldn't turn that down."

"I _would_ ," he growled. "If it meant being away from you, I would."

Her eyes shone with unshed tears and her mouth twisted with outrage. " _Don't_. Don't you dare turn this into a contest of who loves whom more. I'm not _her._ "

Jaime's blood froze. Brienne usually avoided any mention of _her_ , the one who had put conditions on her love for him. Brienne had never asked him to change so she could love him. If he had changed, it had been because he'd wanted to, not because she'd demanded it of him. It hit him suddenly. _She doesn't_ want _to leave. She's more torn up about this than I am._

"I'm sorry," he said. She just sat on the opposite side of the car and stared at her hands, refusing to look at him. _He needed her to look at him._ Jaime stretched his arm out and touched her shoulder. She didn't flinch or move away, and he scooted closer until their knees were almost touching. "Brienne, I'm sorry. I just thought..."

"I know what you thought," she muttered. "How can you think I'd do that to you?"

"You should have told me about the job."

"I just didn't want to get my hopes up." She finally turned to face him and the sight of her wet cheeks made his stomach churn. "It's my dream, Jaime," she said in a small voice. "I don't want to be an adjunct forever."

He closed the last distance between them and pressed his lips against her cheek. “You’ll get the job, wench.”

She shook her head. “You don’t know that.”

“I _do_ know it,” he said, firmly. “How could they not want you? You’re brilliant and stubborn and kind. Your students love you and your bosses hate you.” She chuckled softly and wiped her eyes with the hem of her shirt. “You’re getting the job.”

Brienne took his face between her hands and planted a tender kiss on his mouth. "I love you, Jaime. I really do. I wasn't going to make the decision without you."

He wrapped her up in his arms and he kissed her this time, willing her mouth to part so he could slide his tongue inside and bite her lips and share her breath. She responded in kind, threading her fingers through his hair and moaning into his kiss. Before he knew it, she had tossed the blanket aside and was pulling his jacket off and tugging his shirt over his head. She ran her short nails over the golden hair on his chest and bent down to lap at his nipples. The thrum of lust it sent through his body ended at his groin and he moaned at the sensation. She knew his body as well as he knew hers. They'd spent countless hours exploring each other and memorizing the maps of all the spots that made the other beg.

Her hands were at the waistband of his pants, opening the button and pulling down the zipper. She slipped her hand into his boxers and pulled his erection free while she planted soft, wet kisses down his torso, and when she reached his cock, she took it in her mouth.

The way her big blue eyes looked up at him as she sucked his cock, so clear and bright and guileless, sent a bolt straight through Jaime’s heart. He remembered the first time she went down on him, on her knees in his office at the university, one late night in the middle of the spring semester. She’d been shy and unsure of herself, but she’d made him come harder than he had in years. After that, it had almost become a game for her to see how fast she could get him off.

His hand flew to her head and tangled in her short hair. Brienne licked his shaft, all the way up to the head of his cock and back down again. Her head dipped lower to draw his balls into her mouth one by one, before going wrapping her thick lips around his tip. She held his stump in her left hand, softly caressing the raised scars on his skin, and her right hand moved in tandem with her mouth, stroking him while she sucked, gripping him tight when she felt his balls tensing. The swirling of her warm tongue around him had his heart pounding like a jackhammer. He'd come soon if she kept it up and he wanted to be inside her, to feel her warm walls around him.

"Stop," he said, pushing her away gently. She let go of him immediately and looked up at him with a question in her eyes. He answered by pulling her up for a kiss, rushed and sloppy. "I want you. I want to fuck you."

She eyed the backseat dubiously. "We don't fit in here, Jaime."

"Sure we do. Get on top. Try not to bang your head on the roof."

Brienne rolled her eyes at him but did as he suggested. He helped her tug down her pants and she straddled him, her knees on either side of his hips. She had to hunch forward to keep her head from hitting the overhead light and it had the effect of pressing her flush against him. Jaime tugged at her sweater and undershirt until she was naked on top of him, her dripping cunt sliding against his hardness. He was always surprised by how sopping wet she was after sucking him. The feel of her, soft and hot against his cock, made him so hard it hurt. Her nipples were in front of his face, hard and bright pink like pieces of candy, and he sucked one of them between his lips.

"Oh, Jaime," she gasped, as he nibbled on it. Her hand snaked down to grab his cock. She placed it at her entrance and sank down on it in one graceful movement. Her lips sought his out and they kissed, tongues dancing together. Slowly, they found a rhythm. Brienne was so close to him that her swollen clit ground against him with every thrust and he knew she wouldn't last very long. The sounds she was making were absolutely obscene and he relished them. Sometimes, the walls she built around herself were insurmountable. It made it all the sweeter when she let them crumble, let him in, her eyes glassy with pleasure. He could feel himself falling in love all over again.

Her hips undulated like the sea, back and forth in fast and practiced movements. Their moans and grunts mingled in the air and he couldn't tell if she was shouting or if it was he or the both of them. Her cunt was squeezing him tight, tighter and hotter and slicker than her mouth had been. Brienne gripped his hair and sucked at his earlobe and he felt himself losing control, the first spasms of his release making his balls clench. He held her thigh with his good hand and thrust into her, harder and faster until the only sound in the car was their flesh slapping together and the muddle of their combined groans, swelling and pulsing to their climax. He came inside her with a shout and he felt her shudder against him soon after, his name pouring from her mouth like a prayer.

Their movements slowed on their own until they were clutching each other and panting, a thin film of sweat covering them. He began to soften inside her, but when she made to move, he held her down. "Stay," he said, and she kissed him softly and pressed her face against his neck.

"We could make it work," he said, after a while. "If you really want the job."

"We could talk and text and email," she suggested.

He chuckled. "You could strip for me on Skype." She bit down on his neck in reprimand and he laughed harder. Jaime felt her settle more easily against him. He thought she was smiling against his skin. An idea came to him. It wasn’t ideal—there had always been vultures circling his office, waiting for the first opportunity to swoop in and take his seat—but he couldn’t fathom letting Brienne go. “I could take a sabbatical for a semester or two and write that book I’ve been meaning to do.”

Brienne leaned back in his lap and stared at him. “You would do that for me?”

“Of course.” He could picture it perfectly in his mind. They would rent a little house in the city with an office overlooking the harbor. He would write all day while she worked at the university. In the evenings, she would come home with her piles of papers and he’d coax her into making love in front of the roaring fire instead of grading them. He hoped she was imagining it too.

She wrapped her arms around him and squeezed him tight. "It could work," she said, softly.

He kissed the top of her head and pinched her buttock. "I love you, you big wench."

"I love you too, idiot." She planted an open-mouthed kiss against his neck and licked the spot before kissing his collarbone. Her hips tilted forward just barely and he felt himself stir inside her. It would take him a while to get ready for another round, but there were other things he could do while they waited.

"I think my mouth wants to get reacquainted with your—"

The wail of a siren cut through the air and Brienne's head snapped up to look out the back window. "Shit. It's a cop." She scrambled off him and reached for her clothes, strewn all over the backseat as they were.

"Thank the Seven," he said. Though he felt the loss of her warmth sorely, the prospect of spending more time stranded out there didn't appeal to him.

"Just get dressed," she hissed, shoving his shirt at his chest. "And act normal."

He watched her pale ass and thighs as she struggled into her jeans and smirked. She looked absolutely preposterous with her mussed hair and flushed skin and pert nipples straining against her t-shirt. "You look like you've been properly fucked, wench. And it smells like sex in here. He's gonna know what we were doing." She merely scowled at him as she tried to shove her underwear under the front seat.

Jaime pulled the shirt on and his jeans up just in time for the policeman to peek into the car through the window closest to him. He pushed the door open, wincing at the sudden onslaught of freezing wind, and gave the cop his most winning smile. "Hello, officer."

The cop was a young man, surly-faced with curly black hair and wind-pinked cheeks. "You folks need any help?"

"Yeah, we think our battery's dead."

The officer leaned forward to take a better look at the back of the car. He was surely taking in their rumpled appearances and putting two and two together. "Where ya headed?"

"Winterfell," Brienne said, her voice low and shy. "For Robb Stark's wedding."

His face lit up at the mention of the name. "That's my cousin," he said with a big smile. "You must be Brienne! Aunt Cat won't stop talking about you. I can give you a ride into town if you want to grab your things. We can send a tow truck for the car later."

Brienne gaped at him like a fish, a slow blush crawling up her face. "That would be fantastic," Jaime said.

The officer told them he would wait for them in the patrol car and walked back.

"Gods, he's going to tell Catelyn," she groaned, burying her face in her hands.

"Just tell her I seduced you,” he said, smirking. “She already thinks I'm a bad influence on you."

Brienne made a face. "Because you _are_. Look at what we just did."

Jaime laughed and kissed her. "Come on, you've got a job waiting."

**Author's Note:**

> As always, thanks to ikkiM for her invaluable advice.
> 
> Special shout-out to JustAGirl24 who challenged me to a Smut Battle. [Check out her hot smut.](http://archiveofourown.org/series/165500)


End file.
